A wrecker who puts false lights on the Goblin Coast headland so ships steer onto the rocks. In a fight she does the same to adventurers — kindles a ring of corpse-candles, lets them hang for a beat, then sets them off one after another so the burst travels around the circle instead of going off all at once.

The cathedral's sexton for forty years, and the crypt's problem ever since. No one remembers when he stopped being seen at chapel — only that the passing bell down in the crypt never stopped ringing. Every toll now calls one more set of bones up through the floor to stand with him.

A dire bear who held this treeline before the first goblin camp ever staked a fire there. The tribes learned not to hunt her reach and started leaving kills at its edge instead — the only reason her name sits inside their own spawn ledger. She doesn't cast and doesn't call for help; she just gets angrier the longer a fight runs, and nothing about that escalation switches back off.

A mass grown too large for one throat. The black pool at the back of the Flooded Cavern has taken people for as long as anyone has fished its edge, and none of what it took ever really left — their last breaths fused into one aberrant thing that still tries to speak with all of their voices at once. It doesn't hunt the shore; it waits for the water to be disturbed.

Long after her own name was struck from the temple's rolls, she kept saying the service over congregants who had nowhere left to go. She has been reading the same rite, over the same dead, every night since — and anyone who interrupts it gets folded into the congregation.

The fog over Felmist Marsh never fully lifts, and neither does whatever nests under it. Maggris has been down in the bog hollows long enough that the egg-sacs she doesn't bother hiding aren't a warning sign anymore, just scenery. She doesn't reason with what wanders in — she ropes it down, calls the brood up to help finish it, and finishes it herself if that isn't enough.

Sealed into the deepest crypt centuries ago for an oath he broke in life. He doesn't speak and he doesn't rest — he fights the way he was trained to, and simply changes stance as the fight turns against him instead of pulsing an aura or ringing a bell like the crypt's other dead.

A slab of the mine's own bedrock, pulled upright and given fury by whatever the crews cracked open too deep. A real Huge Earth Elemental, built off the SRD numbers rather than grafted onto class levels — it doesn't call for help or curse anyone, it just gets harder to hurt the longer a fight runs.

Something has kept watch over this maze longer than anyone lost in it has been alive. He's never once needed to find his own way out — everything he does is about where you're standing when he's done with you, not how much damage lands.

The tower has carried his name longer than anyone climbing it now has been alive. He stopped aging the ordinary way and started refracting the way glass does instead — the module's first real prepared arcane caster, not a domain-cleric or a spell-like-ability monster wearing a wizard's robe.

Once a treant that kept the waste's border trees alive against the blight. It lost that fight a long time ago and just kept standing — bark gone grey and split, roots trailing rot into the ground it still won't let anyone past.

A warded guardian construct that doesn't get angrier as a fight goes on — it gets less sealed. Every threshold it crosses permanently unlocks one more of the runes carved into it, on top of everything it already had, rather than replacing it.

Lord of everything the raised dead down in the Aventhine sewers don't need anymore. He fouls the room first, calls the rats in second, and only commits to a kill once he's already vanished and can pick exactly where he reappears.

A fire elemental fused to whatever burned last on the Dragon Fields — and the only boss in the compendium not on a clock. Its opening phase detonates when it's been hurt enough, not when a round count says so.

Something the mine's own collapse should have killed years ago that instead learned to use cave-ins as a weapon. Its arc runs backwards from the module's other mine boss — it opens exposed and only arms itself at the very end.

The one boss in the compendium who never stands still long enough to be flanked. She turns one enemy on their own side, blinks to a second target entirely for a free strike, and only fights honestly once she's finally been cornered.

A Neogi slaver-mystic cast out mid-ritual and abandoned six times past its size in the cathedral's second level. It picks at range with its mind, then twice slips almost entirely out of the world before snapping back to punish anyone still close — the module's first hard invulnerability window.

A dire wolf grown huge and cold-touched from decades working the pass alone. He picks off whoever's nearest early, buries the field in a blizzard once he's hurt, and finally brings the mountainside down between himself and whoever's winning.

The field never stopped raising its own dead. It reaps in a wide arc at range; at the halfway point it comes apart into two lesser Chaff Wraiths and fights on permanently a point worse for the split — the module's first split.

A bandit warlord who runs the wildlands' worst crews on nerve, not numbers. She doesn't have a monster's reserves to draw on, so she spends her own — real hit points paid out for guaranteed heavy strikes, then an all-in stand that trades her own defense for everything she has left.

An air elemental torn loose when whatever event shattered this land tore through it. He doesn't drag one target around — he pulls the whole fight to him at once, hauling every nearby enemy into a single cluster before blasting it.

The eldest queen of the tunnel hive, grown enormous on more than just the grubs she used to eat. Somewhere along the way she learned to feed on what her prey were carrying instead — a blessing, a battle-shout's edge, whatever's actively helping them — and now every bite is a question: do you have anything worth taking?

Amberton's dead don't just wander — they still hold the line Ardemas drew when the town fell, and he still commands it. He doesn't chase and he doesn't retreat: hurt him enough and he plants his banner in the ground and lets the rot he carries do the pursuing instead, a stain that starts small under his boots and never once shrinks.

Morrow still runs the Hold the way he did in life: he reads out a sentence and it gets carried out on schedule, whoever happens to be holding the leash when the count runs out. He fixes on one prisoner at a time and counts the rounds down out loud — and if that prisoner dies early, the sentence doesn't end, it just changes hands.

Ironjaw doesn't have one fighting style, he has three, and he changes gear on the spot to match whichever one the fight calls for. He opens holding his war-maul at reach and weight; hurt him and he throws it down for a pair of claw gauntlets and starts fighting like a much faster, much angrier animal; corner him and he throws even those down and just becomes the fire he's always carried.

Old enough that she no longer bothers closing distance herself. Gravemaw starts a stampede instead and lets it do the chasing — a hazard that keeps moving on its own for several beats after she launches it, stepping itself toward whoever's nearest each time it lands, hunting the field on its own schedule instead of sitting still under her the way a standing zone would.

Kestrix doesn’t out-damage a party, he out-controls one. His signature isn’t a bigger bolt — it’s a standing hush that silences and fumbles spellcasting all at once, and a warded mirror armed to throw the next hostile spell back at whoever cast it.

Malchor wards the room instead of chasing anyone through it. Three Binding Sigils plant once, in a ring around wherever he's standing when the fight starts, and never move again — they spring on their own when someone gets close, on top of a full archmage's spellbook running the fight underneath.

Xhorlaxx doesn’t follow a script — he rolls one, fresh, every round. A pool of five (then six, then two-at-once) wildly different chaos effects means nobody, including him, knows what's coming next.

Gorrukk runs on a meter that goes both ways: War-Fury climbs while he's in melee and decays the moment he isn't, punishing kiting rather than rewarding patience. Losing his own warband instead banks a permanent, ever-growing Blood-Debt he eventually cashes in whole.

A real, already-distinctly-built dragon that nobody had ever flagged as a boss — Shiven's breath doesn't wait on a health threshold at all; it recharges on a flat clock and goes off whether she's winning or losing.

A knight who cheated his way to the title of “Victor” and has been wearing the armor as a lie ever since. At half health he doesn't power up — he sheds the disguise for good, appearance and all, and fights the rest of the way as the wraith he actually is.

A jungle witch doctor whose signature curse doesn't stay put: Umbral Tag hops between party members on its own flat clock, dealing more the longer it's ignored, so there's no cleansing it — only staying alert for when it's about to become someone else's problem.

A spurned noblewoman's ghost who haunts her old street after dark. The cold she carries isn't a phase — it's just how the room is now, for as long as she's alive to be angry about who's standing in it. She, being dead already, never feels it.

Every boss in this bestiary either escalates as it's hurt or runs on a clock that never changes. Tideglass does both differently: she's two completely different witches on a timer, forever - a warding, rooting Ebb and an aggressive, wave-throwing Flood - and the timer itself speeds up the more she's hurt.

Every telegraphed hazard so far in this bestiary detonates blind after a fixed delay, whether or not anyone reacted. Barknuckle is the first one that actually checks: he calls a target by name a full round before the wave lands, and when it finally arrives it looks at where they're standing right then - not where the mark was placed.

Every reflect mechanic in this bestiary bounces damage back onto whoever dealt it. Shared Scars sends it somewhere else entirely: Kroth curses one enemy, and from then on a slice of every hit HE takes lands on THEM too - whoever is actually doing the damage. The curse rotates to someone new every few rounds, so it can't just be tanked by one player forever.

Every passive-unlock boss in this bestiary powers itself up from its OWN hit points crossing a threshold. Ushkar's whole kit instead comes from three real, separate, killable Storm Anchors planted around him at the start of the fight. Kill an anchor and its specific bonus just stops - AC, healing, or damage, your choice which one goes first.

Real troll regeneration, turned into a battlefield-management problem instead of a flat racial trait. Every round Gnashjaw checks for a fresh, non-party corpse within reach and swallows it whole - each meal heals him and permanently thickens his hide. Keep the dead away from him and he never grows at all.

Every prior curse in this bestiary stays anchored to whoever the boss chooses. Foul Contagion is the first one that spreads on its own - once someone is marked, the sickness hops to whoever THEY stand next to, using the party's own positioning against them.

Orcus's Due watches the fight itself rather than raising fixed reinforcements - the instant something non-player dies near Kael, he calls it back up as a mindless thrall to fight at his side.

Weather's Turn ignores her health entirely - Vashka cycles through three weather states on a flat nine-round clock from the first round of combat to the last, win or lose.

Old Korrgath moves people around a battlefield that never changes. The Warden leaves people where they stand and permanently reshapes the maze around them instead.

Every reflect effect in this bestiary bounces damage back at the attacker. Wasting Brand doesn't touch hit points at all - every melee hit lands a stack of curse on whoever swung, and at five stacks it detonates on its own.

Every prior vanish-and-reposition trick in this bestiary just moves the boss. Shirai's leaves something behind - the tile she vacates is seeded with a lingering smoke pocket that keeps fouling whoever's still standing in it.

A real, visible Death Attack channel - three uninterrupted rounds studying a target in melee range pays off as a save-or-be-paralyzed execute. Break his concentration instead and the study banks as Killing Insight, drained into his next hit either way.

Escalates by rewriting the battlefield's own lighting rather than her own stat block - real darkness that blinds everyone but her, then a single blinding flash that burns it away for good.

A real shadow companion, conjured once and fighting independently for as long as it lives - not a disposable add or a static punching bag. Losing it costs her something and gains her something in the same breath.

A Shadowbane Stalker built entirely around who's cast at him - every hostile spell that lands teaches him that caster specifically, permanently, and he drops what he's doing to close the distance.

Corwin swore his oath to the Cathedral's dead and broke it to save his own skin, so the dead swore one back.

Vaelor doesn't summon reinforcements so much as he just stops telling the mine's dead to stay down.

Nethys catalogued this Hold's dead for centuries before he joined them, and he still isn't finished with the work.

Mordraeth doesn't pick a favourite.

Ossian isn't waiting for a health threshold to do something dangerous - he's racing a clock from the moment the fight starts.

Death doesn't fight to hurt you, he fights to collect - every enemy that falls near him banks a permanent, uncapped stack that quietly makes every later round worse.

War gets stronger the more of you are on him at once, recalculated fresh every round - the only boss in the bestiary whose power reads the battlefield live instead of banking it.

Famine starves if the fight goes quiet - two rounds with no blood spilled by anyone, hers or the party's, permanently sharpens her hunger.

Pestilence's infection incubates rather than ticks or relays - three full rounds in her reach matures it, but breaking away clears it with no harm done.

Conquest fights one duel at a time even in a crowd - pressed close to his chosen foe he's a champion, anywhere else in the scrum he's genuinely worse.

A living rival to Maren's haunting - he loots the Estate by day while she claims it by night. His blade channels one more spell every phase, and nothing he unlocks ever turns back off.

A fallen court duelist chasing “the perfect form” through 7 fencing stances - each one fully replaces the last, nothing ever stacks.

A feral cave-raider whose 7 tiers climb with elapsed rounds, not hp - a one-way clock that never resets, even if he's healed.

A masked ambusher who re-rolls a random enemy as “the Face” every phase, borrowing whichever of their own stats reads stronger.

A hive-bonded druid whose 7 phases buff every ant fighting alongside him instead of himself - the swarm gets stronger, not the Warden.

A pact-warlock who owns exactly one spell — and every bolt she lands banks toward the moment she finally casts it.

A fused arcane/divine caster who alternates her two spellbooks strictly every round — never the same source twice running.

Steals a buff off you, then casts back whichever real spell of his own actually matches what he took.

Doesn't cast a single spell all fight — instead she reads the battlefield for who is one, and hunts only them.

An apostate who permanently drains power off whichever enemy prays or casts the hardest — the holier the party, the deadlier she gets.

An arcane and a divine rite fired the same round, every round — land both on one target and the grave answers twice.

A literal spellcast hunter — every ward he breaks off an enemy becomes a permanent ward of his own.

Every hostile spell she watches land nearby feeds a permanent Mastery stack that scales her own blasts — a hunter who feeds on magic rather than breaking it.

Every round he quickens a spell onto his blade; it doesn't discharge until the round after — always exactly one beat behind itself.

The same base spell, every round, all fight — what grows is the metamagic bolted onto it, never the spell itself.

A young Spellthief who turned the Estates’ ward-seals into hunting gear. Her first hostile spell becomes a golden snare and a delayed hazard.

A salt-painted goblin Mage Slayer who blinks through a caster’s blind spot and arrives with a pulse of dead magic.

An elegant Spellthief and Shadowdancer who consumes magical defenses one at a time, leaving a rune shade where the protection used to be.

A Sevenfold Veil initiate whose seven sealed counter-orders rotate after every exchange. The active veil tells the party what kind of answer is coming.

A Spellthief and Unseen Seer who records the school of hostile magic in a mirrored reliquary, then answers the next caster with a sharpened contradiction.

A Shadowbane Inquisitor who makes the first spell cast at her read like a guilty verdict.

A Mystic Theurge whose rebuttals arrive as freezing, dispelling tides.

A miner-archmage who cuts a caster's mind away from their own spell.

An Archmage who answers a spell with fire written straight across the caster's ward.

An epic Archmage whose verdant sentence makes magic itself betray the caster.

A Ranger turned Shadowbane Stalker who hunts spellcasters specifically - every hostile spell aimed at her has a real chance of an immediate answer, fired the instant it lands, and whoever cast it is marked as Hunted from then on.

A Hexblade whose curse lives on his mark, not on himself - every melee hit sinks the hex deeper, and only the Marked foe's own spells ever backfire.

A Force Missile Mage whose barrage ricochets conditionally - a bolt jumps to a second, even third target only if the last hit actually left its mark below half health.

An Alienist who scatters the whole party at once - every enemy within reach thrown to a random point around her, the exact inverse of a mass pull.

An Abjurant Champion who banks every point of real damage taken into a Ward Charge, discharging it as a payback nova the instant it crosses a real threshold - and it can fire more than once a fight.

Every round she rescans for the strongest caster on the field and marks them - every shot into that one target stacks a permanent Hunter's Bane.

No single mark - his bonus applies against every caster he swings at, and once wounded he silences the whole field around him, permanently.

Every spell aimed at her banks Ki Surge whether she catches it or not - and Ki Surge unlocks progressively stronger unarmed flurries that keep firing, not a one-shot payoff.

Corruption only banks when he actually wounds a divine caster he's tracking - go two rounds without feeding it and it decays by half, the bestiary's first resource that shrinks if left unused.

Every hit on her marked caster banks a permanent stack - at exactly 5 it detonates and resets to zero, so in a long fight the Ledger can close and reopen more than once.

A Shadowbane Inquisitor who turns darkness and testimony into a readable ambush.

A blight prophet whose two-round warning blooms into acid and disease if you don't move.

A self-appointed judge who reads the verdict in lightning - three rounds of buildup, then the sentence.

An archmage who answers every ward with a violet arrow built to unmake it first.

An archmage who fights in verses - each named canticle cycling a different judgment before the ninth ends it.

A Shadowbane Inquisitor whose visible ash sentence gives prey two rounds to move before fire and blindness decide the case.

A Black Blood Cultist whose red-moon cadence turns a quiet round into a predatory melee rush and negative burst.

An Alienist whose rotating appetite turns every third round into a readable but changing mental, temporal, or magical threat.

A Warlock who brands prey visibly, then converts hesitation into a delayed hellfire knockdown.

An Archmage whose rotating horizon visibly alternates control and a crushing divine collapse before an epic recovery.

A Shadowbane Inquisitor who maps an escape in cinder, then closes it two rounds later.

A Mystic Theurge who telegraphs an undertow before cold water knocks prey down.

An Archmage whose black prism rotates control and devastation in a readable three-part cycle.

An Archmage who visibly seals prey with an ember debt before the debt comes due.

An epic Archmage whose eclipse visibly rotates hindrance, stun, and divine collapse.

A failed Will save on the caster backfires their own spell and marks them - only THEN does a landed hit on that marked target bank Zeal, a punish-then-capitalize chain instead of a passive catch.

Two rounds hidden banking Insight, one round revealed to spend the whole bank on a single guaranteed ambush strike plus a blinding burst - then back into the dark, over and over.

A won contest against an incoming spell doesn't just block it - the caster takes a permanent negative level and she heals off the backlash, the only reaction in this bestiary that pays out as healing instead of damage or a mark.

Every round the curse on her marked caster climbs one stack of rising acid damage; at 6 it doesn't detonate outward like every prior capstone - it just drags them under, hard control with zero burst damage.

Two resources stack together for the first time in this bestiary - one that resets when she breathes fire, one that never resets and makes every future breath permanently stronger than the last.

Tears persistent doors open at the FARTHEST enemy - the back line - and only an occupied door pays her. The party's entire counterplay is refusing to stand in them; four Attunement buys a permanent graft she keeps for the rest of the fight.

Artillery bracketing, not a telegraph you can dodge: stay within 4m of where you were and his bracket TIGHTENS toward a devastating third stone. Move further and it breaks and resets. The counterplay is continuous, and by the time Threefall is called it is already too late.

The only boss in this bestiary that feeds on its OWN side. Each round he consumes a nearby kinsman for a permanent notch, or spends the round calling a replacement. Kill the adds first and he stalls at base statistics; ignore them and he snowballs.

The only boss here whose next ability is chosen by the PLAYERS. She announces a damage threshold out loud; clear it that round and the note breaks sour into a sonic shatter on the party, fall short and it resolves sweet - she heals, hastes, and lifts her allies.

A two-sided tether nothing else here does: the held player must close to break it, and everyone else must stop hitting him until they do, because a third of every blow they land runs down the links into their own tethered ally.

Every third round she raises a Bound Echo - a fragile duplicate of herself with no attacks of its own. Kill it fast and it's denied; leave it standing two full rounds and it feeds her a permanent Unquiet Dead stack. At four stacks, Ruin detonates on the spot and the count resets.

Fed by her OWN missed attacks, not by anything the party does. Every bolt that whiffs banks Overcharge; at 5 stacks the next round is an automatic empowered nova instead of a single bolt. Dodging her is what feeds her.

A scripted 3-beat combo - Feint, Riposte, Finisher - that free-runs to completion unless he takes damage first. Every interruption drops him back to beat one AND banks a permanent Focus stack (+1 attack, +2 damage, uncapped). No prior boss turns 'we stopped his combo' into progress for him.

A fixed, blind countdown from nine that ticks every round no matter what anyone does. At zero, Hellball detonates centred on himself and the count resets to nine. The only lever the party has: a real critical hit breaks his chant and pushes the count back up by one.

Raises weak Bloom Husks that mean nothing until they die near a PC - each death seeds a stacking Blight Spore, and at 3 stacks it blooms outward onto everyone nearby. She isn't the vector; her own dead are.

Fed by the NUMBER OF DIFFERENT PARTY MEMBERS who've hit him, not raw damage. Each new attacker banks a permanent Fury stack (cap 4, +1 attack/+2 damage each); at 4 stacks the whole warband has cornered him and Hellball detonates on the spot before the stacks reset. Also throws a scripted Gore Charge every 3rd round.

Triggers off being TARGETED BY A HOSTILE SPELL, not off melee damage. Every hostile spell cast at him banks a Ward stack (cap 3) and instantly echoes force damage back at the caster. At 3 stacks his epic Mage Armor answers with a real defensive ward, and the stacks reset.

Summons a Cave-Totem Spirit on spawn - a weak creature that never attacks anything, it just has to survive. While it lives, she heals off it every round. The first time it's confirmed dead, her epic Ruin answers as a one-time grief-burst.

Every round marks one enemy Cornered - the mark ROTATES to a new target each round - and his gore charge against the Cornered target that round cannot miss, no attack roll at all. At half health his epic Dragon Knight summons the same illusory guardian Kessandra Vorn's does.

Every 2nd round pulses a Herd Frenzy buff onto up to 3 nearby allies; his own bonus damage that round scales with how many are CURRENTLY buffed. No prior ally mechanic here rewards the boss for allies being alive and buffed rather than for one dying. At 60% health, his epic Mummy Dust raises two ancient guardians to reinforce the herd.

Fed by ATTACKS THAT MISS HER - tracked each round as (times attacked) minus (times actually damaged), i.e. her own successful dodges. At 3 charges the stormglass discharges a chain-lightning arc through everyone nearby, and her epic Mummy Dust (the Drowned Muster) rises to harry the party.

At 50% HP, once, he genuinely SPLITS - a second, fully independent avs7_meridax spawns beside him, current HP halved between both bodies. The two are linked: killing EITHER one collapses the ooze-consciousness in both instantly. The split itself triggers his epic Dragon Knight (the Rot Ascendant) on both halves as a brief hardening surge.

Every round she unveils another mystery - a scaling bolt at her nearest enemy - and banks a point of Fatigue for it. Her bolt damage scales UP with Fatigue, but so does a small self-inflicted backlash every round it's active. At 5 Fatigue her epic Mage Armor (the Unseen Ward) answers as a release valve and Fatigue resets.

Every third round he visibly stills into Focus - a telegraphed round where he does not press the attack. Survive that round untouched and the FOLLOWING round he lands a guaranteed Perfect Cut. Damage him while Focused and the Cut is denied outright - real counterplay tied to timing. His second landed Cut unleashes his epic Hellball (the Final Draw).

Every other round, if holding fewer than 3 active pacts, she spends a slice of her OWN current HP to bind a devil ally - each pact struck permanently sharpens her own attack and damage. Killing her devils fast is correct, but killing TWO OR MORE in a short window collapses the pact - a Broken Contract backlash, her epic Ruin, aimed at whoever's been killing them.

Every 3rd round she blinks a short distance through the standing water and gains real, mechanical Concealment (not just a visual) - and banks a Reflection charge (cap 3) for doing it. No prior resource in this bestiary is fed by the boss's own REPOSITIONING rather than something the party does to her. At 3 Reflections the glass-tide finally answers: her epic Hellball (the Boiling Reflection) erupts at her new position.

Genuinely PREDICTIVE, not reactive - each round she marks a target as her Prophecy; the following round she checks whether that exact creature actually struck her last. Guess right and she banks a Foresight charge (cap 3) plus a dodge buff; guess WRONG and she suffers her own paradox backlash instead. No prior mechanic here rewards or punishes the boss for the ACCURACY of her own forecast. At 3 correct Foresights running, her epic Mummy Dust (the Refracted Host) answers.

A bidirectional momentum meter, not a one-way bank - each round-end compares her marked target's HP against last round (she landed a verse, Tempo up) AND her own HP against last round (she missed a beat, Tempo down). No prior meter here swings both ways off the same comparison and flips the boss between two different modes. At high Tempo she hits Allegro (a haste-like flourish); the SECOND Allegro in one fight unleashes her epic Dragon Knight. At very low Tempo she falls to a defensive Adagio instead.

A genuine 3-round SUSTAINED CHANNEL, not a single-round telegraph - every 4th round he begins forging a Starshard, and a dedicated OnDamaged hook tallies real damage taken during the channel. Stay under 25 damage for all 3 rounds and the shard completes: an AoE burst plus his epic Mage Armor land together. Cross 25 and the shard shatters mid-forge, backfiring onto HIM. No prior mechanic here is a multi-round channel with a hard interrupt threshold that can backfire on the caster.

A resource SPREAD ACROSS MULTIPLE TARGETS, not banked on himself or one victim - each round he brands a random nearby enemy with a stacking Cindermark (cap 3 stacks per target, tracked on the target itself), and separately tracks how many DISTINCT enemies currently carry any mark at all. Once 3 different enemies are marked simultaneously, he calls in the whole debt at once: his epic Ruin (the Reckoning), scaled by whichever mark is stacked highest, and every Cindermark clears.

Every third round, Map of Unseen Doors blinds the nearest foe beneath a disjunction flare; on round six Nereth invokes Epic Hellball as the cave-map burns away.

Every third round, Pressure Gaze cracks the screen with magical force; on round six Tamara summons Epic Mummy Dust as drowned witnesses.

Every third round, Broken Banner grants Garric a radiant dodge ward; on round six his Epic Mage Armor becomes a towering oath-ward.

Every third round, Cinder Sermon detonates a firebrand beneath his foe; on round six the saint pronounces Epic Ruin.

Every third round, Requiem Note deafens the nearest foe with a sonic burst; on round six Liora calls an Epic Dragon Knight as the choir's final echo.